


Discordant Harmony

by hanyounomiko



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyounomiko/pseuds/hanyounomiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Isa, going home is hard. (Post-Organization)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discordant Harmony

Glass crunched under his feet, grinding into the ruined, mildewy carpet. Once it had been a dusky blue, but the years entombed beneath fathoms of water had let it mold to a greenish-gray, and then the sun had bleached the parts that were exposed to daylight by the hole in the roof. The magic that had kept the ocean from crushing this place for ten years had not protected it from time and decay. The hole in the roof must have been made during the original attack, when he had been far away in the castle. He hadn't been _safe,_ but at least he hadn't been _here_ when the end came and the walls caved in. He would never even attempt to comb through the rubble that was the front living room; there was nothing under there worth keeping, and he didn't want to know what might still be trapped beneath it. Had very deliberately never thought about what might have become of his parents, his dog, his neighbors...

And yet in his own room, there was so little damage. Just the hole in the roof, and it hadn't even been over anything important. The bed, the desk, his dresser, they were all still intact. Rotting, he was sure, but still standing.

Rotten inside, just like Saix had been. But still standing.

It had taken Isa...a long time, to build up the courage to come here. Even to look, and see if his childhood home was still standing. _Lea's_ wasn't, he knew that much. But Isa...hadn't even been sure what he was more afraid of; if it were gone, or if it were still there. He couldn't face that, not yet, so he'd put it off and put it off. Until now.

It...hurt. Seeing it like this; recognizable still, but so changed. _It really would have been better if it were just gone,_ he thought. Then Isa could have just let it go, put it behind him instead of tormenting himself like this. Cataloguing the damage, everything that would never go back to the way it was before. Even if he rebuilt it, its wholeness would mock him. Like his own face, smiling out of a smashed photograph, blue-eyed and unscarred and frozen in time behind a single piece of glass that had protected only him. Isa's fingers traced the edges of the frame and left it where it was.

There really wasn't anything here he could go back to. Papers in the desk, those that had survived, painted a picture of a boy he barely remembered. He lifted an old trophy off a shelf, and the empty spot it left in the dust seemed so much more significant than the object itself. What had this even been for...? All those memories had been lost to time; somehow they'd slipped away without Saix ever even noticing their passing. He'd wanted to hold onto these, hadn't he? When had he forgotten?

An old violin case, tipped over on the floor and cracked with age. Frowning, Isa picked it up and pried the rusted clasps open. This old thing... Isa'd only picked it up on his parents' insistence. Left to his own devices, Isa would never have chosen to pursue any kind of musical talent. But he'd been allowed to choose what instrument he wanted, even if he had no choice in learning one. And he'd been good at it, once. The feelings he'd had then that he hadn't been able to share out loud, he remembered them coming out when the bow passed over the strings. He wondered if he could still do that now.

Now that he thought of it, Saix had wondered about that a little, when he was young and new to the Organization. Isa remembered even going as far as to swear it off, that he couldn't play it if he didn't have emotions to put into it. As if that had mattered at all in the Organization, as if he'd ever be in a position to hold a violin in his hands as a Nobody anyway.

And now...?

Isa still didn't know if he was really any better than he had been back then. He couldn't get used to having a heart again; somehow, in all that time, feelings had become uncomfortable. Expressing them even moreso. He'd always thought that having a heart again would snap him right back; that he'd be just as he was before, and Lea as well. But even now they were still awkward with each other, and Isa couldn't free himself from the coldness he'd learned as Saix. Even if he tried to play this now, would it be any different?

His fingers found their place on the strings without thinking about it. There was no way the violin was still in tune after all this time, if the wood itself hadn't warped beyond recognition. And it was so small; it didn't feel right, tucked under his chin. But his muscles still remembered. Isa sat gingerly on the bed, which groaned dangerously under his weight, but held. Carefully, he set the fraying bow to the strings, hesitating before he drew it across them.

The screech it produced shocked Isa so much he jumped in place, and then froze while the tired old bed creaked and settled. Even after this much time, Isa hadn't expected it to sound quite _that bad._ Was it the violin? The bow? Or was it just Isa, too different after all this time? He let out a rough sigh, fully intending to put it down and lock it back up out of sight. But something kept him from letting it go; his chin rested against it for a long while, no longer quite fitting where it once had but still remembering where it belonged in the wear on the violin. Slowly he drew the bow across the strings again, and this time the screech was not nearly as horrible. He just needed practice, that was all. Just needed to remember. And where his mind had forgotten, his fingers recalled. With each draw of the bow, the sound seemed more and more right, more like a melody. Halting, off-key, his fingers found the tune of an old favorite. It was still there, somewhere. Broken and changed, ugly and disharmonious, but beneath that the same tune endured.

And when Isa closed the door behind himself for the last time, he did it with a battered old violin case tucked under his arm.  


**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this piece of music](http://hanyounomiko.tumblr.com/post/119913708632/rokkisei-kingdom-hearts-passion-piano)


End file.
